


A Father's Blessing

by impalawinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:16:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13117782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalawinchester/pseuds/impalawinchester
Summary: After your boyfriend is killed by a werewolf, you're back in the life.  Sam and Dean bring you to Bobby's for the weekend.





	1. Welcome to Sioux Falls

_Welcome to Sioux Falls_ rolled by outside the Impala’s window, and you were restless yet exhausted in the back seat. The car felt like a prison, which was particularly unsettling because you typically liked to be in the car. But the back seat made you feel trapped, and you couldn’t see neither Sam nor Dean's face, but they could see yours.

You were officially in the game, integrated back into the life the hard way (was there another way?), and you had a new bullet wound on your thigh to prove it. You’d been trying to leave the hunting life, picking up less cases and only bothering with them if they were within the state.

You’d begun erasing your hunter contacts and selling your guns (except your favorite pistol). And you’d been good. Hadn’t picked up a hunt for a few months, had moved in with a new boyfriend, started talking to your mom again, traded in your rock salt and demon traps for a mortgage and an accurate driver’s license.

But then you’d had to work late and when you finally walked into your house late that night you had seen your boyfriend getting his face chewed off by a wolf. Your neighbor had barged in at the noise after you’d knifed the thing and shot you in the process. What a dumbass. And the werewolf got away.

Sam and Dean had already been researching the case under your nose – apparently you were getting rusty – and showed up at your house to find you with a bullet wound torn into your quad, your neighbor panicking, and your boyfriend shredded on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. So that was your life.

And now they were on their way to Bobby’s to do some more research, something about a hybrid wolf and some kind of pack that they’d been tailing for a few weeks. And they insisted you join them. But currently, you didn’t give a damn about anything. Your leg was sore, your boyfriend was dead, your life was ruined yet again – and the younger Winchester was obviously harboring a major crush on you and was struggling to hide it. Last thing you needed was a puppy.

So as the miles ticked away and the streets turned from dirt back roads to the small town avenues of Sioux Falls, you found yourself thinking about some Joni Mitchell lyrics. 

_I've looked at life from both sides now, from win and lose and still somehow, it's life's illusions I recall - I really don't know life at all._


	2. In the Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby gives you what you need the most.

Bobby’s house was an old auto salvage shop, fenced in and surrounded by dilapidated cars. The house itself was packed with books and was warm and cozy and dusty. Bobby shook your hand and nodded in greeting. He told you he’d heard about you, knew you were a hunter worth your salt.

You thanked him, and instantly found yourself wanting his approval.

Although the urge to curl up in a ball on his couch and sleep until starvation caused you more pain than your festering loss, you dragged yourself to the shower upstairs.

You hadn’t loved Jim. But you loved the idea of Jim. Steady job, suit and tie, respectable college education and work ethic, warm hands, warmer body lying next to yours at night.

In the mirror, you could see him walk up behind you and kiss your cheek before he left for work, but it was only Dean kicking you out of the bathroom to take a shower of his own.

Nonetheless, you missed him and the breakfast he would sometimes make you and how he would splurge on a fancy dinner sometimes to surprise you, and how he was terrific at pool. He was even better than you.

You re-bandaged your wound, winching at the pain of it and the way your muscles struggled to pull themselves back together. But it didn’t matter – you’d be fine in a few weeks.

Upon your return downstairs, you looked at the couch longingly, which Bobby had set up for you to sleep on, but you figured you should eat something. Dinner it was, and dinner for four.

Bobby and Sam were standing around Bobby’s desk discussing the hybrid werewolves, but when Sam saw you, he walked out.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked. He titled his head to the side, gave you those puppy dog eyes. For a brief instant, you wanted to bury your face in his chest and cry until you couldn’t cry anymore.

“Great,” you said. Sam obviously didn’t believe you, but you wished he would let it go.

“I know what it’s like to walk in on something like that. And it’s hell. But I’m here for you. We’re all here for you.”

So yeah, you were pretty fucked up, and felt like cursing the world and running away or ending it all. But Sam, standing there in all of his gorgeous flanneled self – well, if he cared about you, that had to count for something, right?

But you realized that he was far too good for you. He was kind, a swift, strong hunter, intelligent, and – you couldn’t go on. Your shortcomings piled up and the gap between the two of you widened.

So you smiled and thanked him, squeezed his arm, and found your way to the kitchen to make dinner. It really was the least you could do.

As you cooked – a lasagna recipe from your mother – and tossed a salad with the minimal ingredients Bobby’s pantry offered, you began to hum. Recently you’d started reviving Joni Mitchell.

Gradually, as you chopped vegetables and slid the uncooked tray in the preheated oven, you started to sing the melodies that were far too high for your voice range. But the lyrics were wonderful nonetheless.

_Tears and fears and feeling proud, to say 'I love you' right out loud - dreams and schemes and circus crowds - I've looked at life that way._

Sam and Bobby continued shuffling through their books in the other room and you continued to sing, insecurity be damned.

“She’s a good one,” you heard Bobby say to Sam.  You lowered your voice a bit. 

“You think?” Sam answered.

You paused to eavesdrop further, olive oil in hand, mid-pour, songs lyrics cut off in the middle.

“She knows Joni Mitchell and she’s cooking dinner for you idjits. Yeah, I think she’s a good one.”


End file.
